In 1929, the world stood on the edge of transformation. The exuberance of the Jazz Age was still in motion—marked by Art Deco luxury, cinematic sophistication, and bold fashion silhouettes—but the looming economic crash would soon reshape daily life. Perfume, like fashion, reflected the dual impulses of the time: the continued love of opulence, paired with an emerging desire for complexity and restraint. Présence, created by perfumer Raymond Kling, seems to capture both. It is described as a heady, spicy green chypre, yet it carries a notable hesperidic tang—a zestiness that adds levity to its otherwise serious, velvety character.
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Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Presence by Houbigant (1929)
Launched in 1929, Présence by Houbigant arrived at a pivotal moment in modern history—a final flourish of glamour before the seismic economic and cultural shifts that would define the 1930s. The name Présence is French, pronounced “preh-ZAHNS”. In its simplest definition, it means "presence"—but in French, the word carries a gravity and elegance beyond its English equivalent. It implies aura, grace, and the intangible command a person has simply by entering a room. Choosing this name signaled that Houbigant was offering not just a perfume, but an invisible garment of confidence and distinction. The word Présence evokes poise, magnetism, and a sense of self-assurance that lingers—something women of the era would have found deeply appealing.
In 1929, the world stood on the edge of transformation. The exuberance of the Jazz Age was still in motion—marked by Art Deco luxury, cinematic sophistication, and bold fashion silhouettes—but the looming economic crash would soon reshape daily life. Perfume, like fashion, reflected the dual impulses of the time: the continued love of opulence, paired with an emerging desire for complexity and restraint. Présence, created by perfumer Raymond Kling, seems to capture both. It is described as a heady, spicy green chypre, yet it carries a notable hesperidic tang—a zestiness that adds levity to its otherwise serious, velvety character.
In 1929, the world stood on the edge of transformation. The exuberance of the Jazz Age was still in motion—marked by Art Deco luxury, cinematic sophistication, and bold fashion silhouettes—but the looming economic crash would soon reshape daily life. Perfume, like fashion, reflected the dual impulses of the time: the continued love of opulence, paired with an emerging desire for complexity and restraint. Présence, created by perfumer Raymond Kling, seems to capture both. It is described as a heady, spicy green chypre, yet it carries a notable hesperidic tang—a zestiness that adds levity to its otherwise serious, velvety character.
Mes Delices by Houbigant c1903
Mes Délices by Houbigant, launched in 1903, translates from French as “My Delights” — pronounced roughly "meh day-leess". The name alone evokes a deeply personal sense of indulgence, of private luxuries cherished and savored. It is intimate and evocative, suggesting both sensory pleasure and emotional satisfaction. The phrase conjures visions of soft silks, warm pastries, delicate blossoms warmed by the sun, and whispered secrets behind a fan. It implies a fragrance created not just to please, but to delight in the truest sense — a perfume meant to be worn for oneself as much as for others.
The early 1900s marked a transitional era — straddling the opulence of the Belle Époque and the dawn of modernism. In 1903, Parisian society was still immersed in the refined elegance of the turn-of-the-century: tea gowns, elaborate hats, and the decorative flourish of Art Nouveau. Women were beginning to enjoy greater social freedom and visibility, and perfume played a key role in this newfound self-expression. Perfumes of this period leaned into complexity and depth, favoring long-lasting floral or oriental blends over the light colognes of the previous century. Mes Délices would have appealed to a woman who saw herself as both refined and modern — embracing the sensual pleasures of scent as a daily ritual and an assertion of identity.
Choosing a name like Mes Délices for a fragrance in this moment of cultural flourishing was entirely fitting for a house like Houbigant, long admired for their ability to blend classical elegance with innovation. The title alone distinguishes the perfume as something deeply pleasurable, almost gourmand in its implication, and certainly hedonistic. It suggests not a floral bouquet plucked from a polite garden, but something richer, more enveloping — a fragrance with emotional resonance.
La Rose France by Houbigant c1911
La Rose France by Houbigant, launched in 1911, was a fragrance steeped in symbolism, femininity, and national pride. Its name—La Rose France—is French for “The Rose of France,” pronounced roughly as “lah rohz frahnss.” The title evokes the elegance of the French rose, specifically the historic Rosa ‘La France’, a pale silvery-pink bloom discovered by Jean-Baptiste André Guillot in 1867. This particular variety is widely recognized as the first hybrid tea rose, marking the beginning of the modern era of rose cultivation. Its unique blend of old-world charm and innovation made it a fitting inspiration for a perfume at a time when tradition and modernity were finding harmony.
Houbigant’s choice to name the perfume La Rose France was not only a nod to this botanical milestone but a poetic gesture linking French heritage, art, and femininity. The rose has long symbolized romance, beauty, and refinement—qualities associated with Madame de Pompadour, the influential mistress of Louis XV and a tastemaker in the arts and personal adornment. The perfume conjures the imagined elegance of 18th-century salons, where powdered wigs, silk gowns, and delicate fans perfumed with rose water were in fashion. Yet La Rose France was not merely nostalgic; it spoke directly to the Belle Époque woman of 1911—graceful, cultured, and awakening to new freedoms.
Monday, May 27, 2013
Premier Mai by Houbigant c1908
Launched in 1908, Premier Mai by Houbigant took its name from a cherished French tradition—the giving of muguet, or lily of the valley, on the first of May as a token of love, hope, and good fortune. In French, Premier Mai (pronounced preh-mee-AY my) simply means “May 1st,” but culturally, it carries a deeply poetic weight. For the French, this day is not just a date on the calendar—it is symbolic of spring’s return, the renewal of life, and the gentle optimism that follows winter. Delicate sprigs of muguet are exchanged among lovers and friends, evoking innocence, tenderness, and well-wishing. Houbigant’s choice of this name was no accident—it was designed to elicit emotion, nostalgia, and freshness all at once, and to root the fragrance firmly in a beloved national custom.
The perfume's imagery is as lyrical as its name. Premier Mai conjures the first warmth of spring, the pearly white bells of muguet nestled in green, dew-dappled leaves. It evokes woodland paths, shaded glades, and the cool hush of forest undergrowth. One poetic description from the period encapsulates this beautifully: “It smells of the fresh young girl, sweet and sour, lively and laughing, but with wet eyes for a dream… It projects the shadow of the false twilight of the forest, with its green dome, its wet leaves, its watercress beds, its leafy smells and its inexhaustible springs.” It is a fragrance intended to suspend time, to capture the fleeting grace of early spring and preserve it on the skin through summer’s heat.
When Premier Mai debuted in 1908, France was in the midst of the Belle Époque—a golden age defined by elegance, cultural blossoming, and a sense of modernity tinted with romanticism. Fashion was dominated by the fluid lines of Paul Poiret, whose designs freed women from corsets and celebrated natural form. The arts were flourishing, and perfumery was undergoing its own transformation. The turn of the century saw the rise of artistic perfumers and the increasing use of synthetics, which allowed new olfactory compositions to emerge. It was also a time when single-flower fragrances remained popular, and lily of the valley was among the most beloved. Nearly every perfumery had its own interpretation of muguet, but few captured the emotional resonance of Houbigant’s.
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Parfum d' Argeville by Houbigant c1913
Parfum d’Argeville by Houbigant was launched in 1913, a pivotal year that marked the final flourish of the Belle Époque, a period known for its cultural grandeur, refinement, and optimism before the world was plunged into the First World War. The name Parfum d’Argeville—pronounced as "par-FOOM dar-zhuh-VEEL"—is French, and translates simply as “Perfume of Argeville.” It’s believed Houbigant may have been paying tribute to Dhumez & Cie, a prominent supplier of perfume raw materials located in the South of France, specifically near Argeville-en-Provence. This region was known for its abundant flower cultivation—roses, jasmine, orange blossom—and for producing high-quality natural extracts essential to French perfumery. By naming the perfume Parfum d’Argeville, Houbigant may have been honoring both a place of origin and a valued partnership in sourcing the very soul of the fragrance: its natural materials.
The name itself evokes a sense of refined pastoral luxury—sun-drenched hillsides blanketed with blooming flowers, quiet Provençal villages where the air is heavy with the scent of jasmine at dusk. It suggests a perfume born not in a laboratory, but in nature—distilled from blossoms plucked at dawn and transformed with care into a delicate elixir. The word Argeville may even carry faint echoes of argent (silver), enhancing its poetic effect: cool, luminous, and precious. The emotional resonance is one of nostalgia, elegance, and nature refined by art, a perfect match for the tastes of the time.
When Parfum d’Argeville was introduced, the world of perfumery was already in a period of transformation. The Belle Époque brought enormous growth to the industry, as synthetic aroma chemicals were being integrated into complex compositions, allowing perfumers like Paul Parquet to expand their creative reach. Parquet, celebrated for his groundbreaking Fougère Royale (1882), had a gift for blending natural materials with synthetics in ways that felt fresh, balanced, and luxurious. Parfum d’Argeville was no exception—it was a composite floral fragrance, meaning it combined multiple flower essences into a seamless bouquet. But what set it apart was the contrast of woody and amber undertones. These warm, sensual notes added depth and elegance, a sophistication that moved beyond the light, ephemeral florals common in earlier decades.
La Belle Saison by Houbigant c1924
La Belle Saison, launched by Houbigant in 1924, takes its name from the French phrase meaning “The Beautiful Season”—pronounced "la bell say-zohn". It is a poetic homage to spring and early summer, evoking that fleeting moment when nature is at her most lush and fragrant. The name alone conjures images of fresh green fields, gardens in riotous bloom, and golden light dappled through newly budded trees. There’s a softness and nostalgia in it—an embrace of the season’s ephemeral beauty.
The fragrance emerged during the Années folles—France’s “crazy years,” equivalent to America’s Roaring Twenties. Postwar Europe was undergoing a cultural renaissance, with a renewed appetite for beauty, elegance, and modern expression. Women were enjoying greater freedom—socially, politically, and sartorially. Hemlines rose, corsets loosened, and cosmetics and perfume became more widely accepted as a part of daily life. In perfumery, this was a golden age, as new synthetic materials allowed perfumers to break from the limitations of natural extractions alone. The 1920s saw a wave of innovation, with perfumes designed not merely to imitate nature but to express moods, seasons, and even abstract ideas.
La Belle Saison—described in contemporary advertising as “the exquisite crystallization of summer’s verdant charm”—was Houbigant’s olfactory interpretation of that liberated, optimistic spirit. Created by Robert Bienaimé, the perfume was classified as a spicy floral, aligning with the period’s fascination with complexity and drama. Rather than offering a single-note soliflore, it blended precious and exotic florals with warm spice, creating a fragrance that was both grounded and radiant—an idealized version of nature filtered through imagination.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Un Peu d'Ambre by Houbigant c1919
Un Peu d’Ambre by Houbigant, launched in 1919, arrived at a pivotal moment in both cultural and olfactory history. The name—Un Peu d’Ambre, meaning “A Little Amber” in French (pronounced uh(n) puh dahm-bruh)—evokes something soft, intimate, and quietly sensual. Rather than an overpowering oriental statement, the perfume offers just a suggestion, a whisper of amber. This name alone conjures images of dusky silk drapes, warm candlelight reflecting off gilt mirrors, and the golden hush of twilight—a nod to refinement and restraint after the chaos of war.
Launched in the immediate aftermath of World War I, Un Peu d’Ambre emerged during a time of renewal and redefinition. The year 1919 fell within the transitional period that would soon become known as les années folles, or the Roaring Twenties. It was a time when women were redefining their roles, their fashions, and their desires. Perfume followed suit—moving away from the delicate soliflores of the Belle Époque toward more complex and sensuous compositions.
Created by Robert Bienaimé, Un Peu d’Ambre was Houbigant’s response to the trend for amber-type fragrances—an immensely popular category throughout the 19th century and well into the 20th. Amber, in the perfumer’s lexicon, refers not just to natural ambergris, but also to the warm, resinous, and powdery base accords built from balsams, musks, labdanum, vanilla, and increasingly by then, synthetic compounds that could replicate or enhance these costly natural materials. Houbigant's “little” amber was likely anything but simple—built with precision to convey luxurious warmth while maintaining elegance.
L’Oeillet Du Roy by Houbigant c1906
L’Oeillet du Roy by Houbigant, launched in 1906, was a revival and refinement of one of perfumery’s most enduring floral themes: the carnation. The name, L’Oeillet du Roy, is French and translates to “The King’s Carnation” in English. Pronounced roughly “luh-uh-yay doo rwah”, the name evokes nobility, tradition, and royal patronage. The carnation, or oeillet, had long held symbolic associations with love, distinction, and classic elegance—qualities that suited both royal imagery and feminine romanticism at the turn of the century.
In perfumery, carnation is prized for its spicy floral character, a profile shaped less by the fresh scent of the actual flower and more by the clever blending of certain materials. The characteristic carnation scent is recreated primarily with eugenol and isoeugenol, molecules that lend a warm, clove-like spiciness. In historical formulas, these might be paired with rose, jasmine, heliotropin, and even cinnamon or benzoin to round out the floral core and give it depth. Natural carnation absolute is incredibly expensive and difficult to extract in useful quantities, so most “carnation” fragrances have long been semi-abstract constructions—a blend of natural and synthetic that conveys not just the flower but the sensation of its essence.
By the early 20th century, aromachemicals had become a powerful tool for perfumers. Heliotropin, with its sweet almond and cherry nuances, and coumarin, with its soft hay-like warmth, helped anchor floral notes with powdery, comforting bases. These materials didn’t merely substitute for costly natural extracts—they added new textures and layers of emotion. In L’Oeillet du Roy, these ingredients would have enhanced the spicy floral theme while creating a structure with lasting presence and modern character.
Jasmin Floral by Houbigant c1912
Jasmin Floral by Houbigant, launched in 1912, carries a name that is at once evocative and direct—“Jasmin Floral” simply means “Jasmine Floral” in French. Pronounced "zhaz-man floh-ral", the name suggests both elegance and clarity. The French word “jasmin” evokes images of night-blooming flowers, delicate and pale, releasing their fragrance under the hush of dusk. The term “floral” immediately sets the stage for a bouquet of blossoms, but jasmine takes center stage here, promising a perfume that would be lush, romantic, and inherently feminine. The phrase, drawn from early advertisements—“From the flowers of an old garden silvered by moonlight”—adds a further poetic layer, conjuring a scene of nostalgia and tender beauty. This is not jasmine under the harsh sun, but softened by memory and mood, a bloom caught in twilight reverie.
When Houbigant introduced Jasmin Floral in 1912, the world was teetering on the edge of transformation. The Belle Époque was drawing to a close, a time remembered for its grace, optimism, and artistic flourishing. Fashion was softening—lace, delicate embroidery, and flowing silhouettes still held sway, but there was also a movement toward modernism just beginning to stir. In perfumery, heavy orientals and powdery florals had begun to rise in popularity, but soliflores—single-note floral perfumes—remained beloved for their clarity and elegance. Jasmin, in particular, was viewed as a symbol of sensuality and sophistication, associated with both innocence and seduction depending on its context. A fragrance like Jasmin Floral would have appealed to women who appreciated refinement without artifice, women who were drawn to the natural beauty of a garden rather than the exoticism of the bazaar.
Friday, May 24, 2013
Coeur de Jeannette by Houbigant c1899
Coeur de Jeannette by Houbigant was introduced in 1899, a time when French perfumery was experiencing a golden age of innovation, elegance, and symbolism. The name, Coeur de Jeannette—pronounced roughly as "kur duh zhan-ette"—translates from French to “Jeannette’s Heart.” This poetic phrase evokes not only a sense of intimacy and romance but also references the delicate bleeding heart flower, known in French as coeur de marie or coeur de Jeannette. With its distinctive heart-shaped blooms and trailing “tear,” the flower serves as a poignant metaphor for tender emotion, fleeting beauty, and the mystique of feminine allure.
At the 1900 Paris Exposition Universelle, Houbigant unveiled this fragrance as a special creation to commemorate the event—a world’s fair that celebrated progress, art, and modernity at the dawn of the new century. It was a bold move that cemented Houbigant’s place as a forward-thinking house blending art and science, tradition and innovation. The perfume was created by Paul Parquet, a pioneering perfumer known for crafting complex, emotional compositions that departed from the rigid soliflores of earlier decades. Coeur de Jeannette was no exception—it was classified as a floral oriental, with spicy undertones that hinted at the exotic and the refined, lending the wearer an aura of mystery and sophistication.
Bois Dormant by Houbigant c1925
Launched in 1925, Bois Dormant by Houbigant arrived during a period when perfumery was evolving rapidly in both artistic expression and technical complexity. The name Bois Dormant—French for “Sleeping Woods”—is pronounced roughly as “bwah dor-MAHN”. But beyond its literal meaning, the name evokes a dreamlike state: a quiet, enchanted forest wrapped in mist and stillness, untouched by time. In some English-language advertisements, the name was translated or reimagined as “Enchanted Woods”, a romantic interpretation that deepened its fairytale aura. This wasn’t coincidental. In 1925, public interest in fairy tales was notably high: a theatrical adaptation of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs was published by Samuel French, and the celebrated illustrator Kay Nielsen released a lavishly drawn version of the tale. It’s likely Houbigant was tapping into this broader cultural fascination with myth, sleep, and enchantment—offering a scent that felt as spellbinding and transportive as the stories themselves.
For Houbigant to name a perfume Bois Dormant at this moment was both poetic and strategic. The 1920s were a time of artistic freedom and modernist experimentation, but also a moment when women were asserting new roles in society. The flapper era was in full swing—marked by shorter hemlines, bobbed hair, and a taste for jazz and nightlife—but there remained a parallel yearning for elegance, mystique, and nature’s deeper romanticism. Bois Dormant offered an alternative to the sparkling aldehydic florals popularized by perfumes like Chanel No. 5. Instead of brash modernity, Houbigant’s offering leaned into mystery, sophistication, and atmosphere. The name itself conjures images of misty groves, dusky amber light filtering through tall trees, and forgotten glades where magic lingers.
The fragrance was the work of Raymond Kling and Arturo Jordi-Pey, two perfumers known for their attention to structure and depth. Classified as a floral chypre, Bois Dormant distinguished itself through a powdery-ambergris and musk-laden base, with a cool, woody core that bordered on astringent and herbaceous. The chypre construction—typically composed of bergamot, oakmoss, patchouli, and labdanum—was given a decidedly cool and mysterious edge here. Rather than a warm, resinous forest, Bois Dormant smells like a shadowed woodland at dawn: damp bark, crushed herbs, and the mineral chill of moss underfoot. This cold woody note, unusual for the time, gave the fragrance a quiet solemnity and depth that would have stood apart from the more floral or powdery perfumes then dominating the market.
For Houbigant to name a perfume Bois Dormant at this moment was both poetic and strategic. The 1920s were a time of artistic freedom and modernist experimentation, but also a moment when women were asserting new roles in society. The flapper era was in full swing—marked by shorter hemlines, bobbed hair, and a taste for jazz and nightlife—but there remained a parallel yearning for elegance, mystique, and nature’s deeper romanticism. Bois Dormant offered an alternative to the sparkling aldehydic florals popularized by perfumes like Chanel No. 5. Instead of brash modernity, Houbigant’s offering leaned into mystery, sophistication, and atmosphere. The name itself conjures images of misty groves, dusky amber light filtering through tall trees, and forgotten glades where magic lingers.
The fragrance was the work of Raymond Kling and Arturo Jordi-Pey, two perfumers known for their attention to structure and depth. Classified as a floral chypre, Bois Dormant distinguished itself through a powdery-ambergris and musk-laden base, with a cool, woody core that bordered on astringent and herbaceous. The chypre construction—typically composed of bergamot, oakmoss, patchouli, and labdanum—was given a decidedly cool and mysterious edge here. Rather than a warm, resinous forest, Bois Dormant smells like a shadowed woodland at dawn: damp bark, crushed herbs, and the mineral chill of moss underfoot. This cold woody note, unusual for the time, gave the fragrance a quiet solemnity and depth that would have stood apart from the more floral or powdery perfumes then dominating the market.
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Au Matin by Houbigant c1922
Launched in 1922 in France and introduced to the American market in 1928, Au Matin by Houbigant was a fragrance designed to capture a specific moment in time—both literally and metaphorically. The name Au Matin, pronounced "oh mah-TAN", translates from French to “In the Morning.” The phrase evokes the purity, clarity, and gentle optimism of early dawn—when light breaks over the horizon, dew settles on petals, and the world stirs into motion. It is a name rich with sensory cues: cool air, fresh blossoms, sunlight diffusing through trees, and the awakening of nature.
To a French-speaking audience, Au Matin would conjure the image of a quiet, radiant morning—a time often associated with renewal, grace, and unspoiled beauty. To English-speaking consumers, especially in the United States during the late 1920s, the use of French in a product name imbued it with a sense of luxury, modern sophistication, and effortless chic. Houbigant, already a storied French house by this time, leaned into its Parisian identity to appeal to women eager for a taste of continental elegance.
The advertising of Au Matin further expanded upon this mood. Phrases like “breath of dawn’s awakening flowers” and “liquid sunlight” painted an idealized, almost poetic image of the fragrance. One particularly evocative line — “that triumphant atmosphere of spring mornings, when all of Nature sings of Youth and Joy” — positioned the perfume not merely as a scent but as an emotional experience. The flacon itself, a clear crystal bottle nestled in a luxurious gold-flecked case, echoed this theme: a radiant jewel to hold the freshness of morning. Au Matin emerged at a moment of cultural shift. The early 1920s marked the beginning of what would later be called Les Années Folles in France and the Roaring Twenties in the United States — a decade defined by rapid modernization, artistic experimentation, and social liberation. Women, having recently secured the right to vote in several countries and begun to experience greater autonomy, were embracing new fashions, new roles, and new identities.
In perfumery, the 1920s was a decade of innovation. This was the age of Chanel No. 5 (1921), the first widely celebrated aldehydic perfume. Aldehydes—synthetic compounds with a fizzy, effervescent quality—became a hallmark of the modern woman’s scent wardrobe. They offered a sense of crisp cleanliness and elegant abstraction, in contrast to the heavy, animalic perfumes of the 19th century. Au Matin clearly followed this trend, embracing aldehydes alongside fresh green notes and a bouquet of flowers including daffodil and carnation. This composition was aligned with the spirit of the times. Daffodils, with their trumpet-like blossoms and sunny disposition, were harbingers of spring and perfectly symbolized renewal and cheer. Carnation, with its spicy, clove-like nuance, lent depth and personality. Together with the aldehydic and green elements, Au Matin conveyed a sense of sparkling clarity—a fragrance with the emotional profile of morning light filtering through a garden.
To a French-speaking audience, Au Matin would conjure the image of a quiet, radiant morning—a time often associated with renewal, grace, and unspoiled beauty. To English-speaking consumers, especially in the United States during the late 1920s, the use of French in a product name imbued it with a sense of luxury, modern sophistication, and effortless chic. Houbigant, already a storied French house by this time, leaned into its Parisian identity to appeal to women eager for a taste of continental elegance.
The advertising of Au Matin further expanded upon this mood. Phrases like “breath of dawn’s awakening flowers” and “liquid sunlight” painted an idealized, almost poetic image of the fragrance. One particularly evocative line — “that triumphant atmosphere of spring mornings, when all of Nature sings of Youth and Joy” — positioned the perfume not merely as a scent but as an emotional experience. The flacon itself, a clear crystal bottle nestled in a luxurious gold-flecked case, echoed this theme: a radiant jewel to hold the freshness of morning. Au Matin emerged at a moment of cultural shift. The early 1920s marked the beginning of what would later be called Les Années Folles in France and the Roaring Twenties in the United States — a decade defined by rapid modernization, artistic experimentation, and social liberation. Women, having recently secured the right to vote in several countries and begun to experience greater autonomy, were embracing new fashions, new roles, and new identities.
In perfumery, the 1920s was a decade of innovation. This was the age of Chanel No. 5 (1921), the first widely celebrated aldehydic perfume. Aldehydes—synthetic compounds with a fizzy, effervescent quality—became a hallmark of the modern woman’s scent wardrobe. They offered a sense of crisp cleanliness and elegant abstraction, in contrast to the heavy, animalic perfumes of the 19th century. Au Matin clearly followed this trend, embracing aldehydes alongside fresh green notes and a bouquet of flowers including daffodil and carnation. This composition was aligned with the spirit of the times. Daffodils, with their trumpet-like blossoms and sunny disposition, were harbingers of spring and perfectly symbolized renewal and cheer. Carnation, with its spicy, clove-like nuance, lent depth and personality. Together with the aldehydic and green elements, Au Matin conveyed a sense of sparkling clarity—a fragrance with the emotional profile of morning light filtering through a garden.
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Transparence by Houbigant c1939
Launched in 1939, Transparence by Houbigant emerged at a time of global uncertainty, yet also during a period in perfumery that embraced modernism, lightness, and femininity reimagined. Interestingly, trademark records suggest the name may have first been used as early as 1931, implying the scent may have existed quietly or in test markets before its official debut. The name Transparence—French for “transparency”—is pronounced approximately “trahn-spa-RAHNSS”. It evokes images of clarity, lightness, and something both visible and intangible, like sheer silk fluttering in the breeze, or moonlight filtered through fine mist. It’s a word that feels ethereal, yet modern—suggestive of something that reveals rather than conceals.
Choosing the name Transparence would have carried a strong emotional and stylistic appeal during the late 1930s. This was an era in which women’s fashions were turning toward fluid lines, sheerer fabrics, and understated elegance. The heavy embellishments of the 1920s had softened, replaced by the natural grace of bias-cut gowns, translucent chiffons, and pastel tones. Against this backdrop, a fragrance named Transparence—promising lightness, clarity, and an almost ethereal presence—was perfectly attuned to its time. It invited the wearer to imagine a scent as clear as crystal, as fleeting and luminous as a summer afternoon or a moment of laughter. The marketing even referred to it as “a bright, clear, singing kind of scent”, the olfactory equivalent of a joyful melody.
Described as an aldehydic light floral chypre, Transparence falls squarely into a genre that had been pioneered earlier by Chanel No. 5 (1921) but was continually evolving by the late 1930s. The aldehydes—those shimmering, airy synthetic molecules—would have given Transparence its bright, dewy opening, lending sparkle and diffusion to the floral heart. What distinguished Transparence from others, however, was its emphasis on sportiness and youth. It wasn’t just elegant or romantic—it was described as “sporty, but whose resonance remains pure like the sound of crystal.” This positions it as part of a new generation of fragrances aimed at active, independent women who valued freshness and clarity over opulence.
Choosing the name Transparence would have carried a strong emotional and stylistic appeal during the late 1930s. This was an era in which women’s fashions were turning toward fluid lines, sheerer fabrics, and understated elegance. The heavy embellishments of the 1920s had softened, replaced by the natural grace of bias-cut gowns, translucent chiffons, and pastel tones. Against this backdrop, a fragrance named Transparence—promising lightness, clarity, and an almost ethereal presence—was perfectly attuned to its time. It invited the wearer to imagine a scent as clear as crystal, as fleeting and luminous as a summer afternoon or a moment of laughter. The marketing even referred to it as “a bright, clear, singing kind of scent”, the olfactory equivalent of a joyful melody.
Described as an aldehydic light floral chypre, Transparence falls squarely into a genre that had been pioneered earlier by Chanel No. 5 (1921) but was continually evolving by the late 1930s. The aldehydes—those shimmering, airy synthetic molecules—would have given Transparence its bright, dewy opening, lending sparkle and diffusion to the floral heart. What distinguished Transparence from others, however, was its emphasis on sportiness and youth. It wasn’t just elegant or romantic—it was described as “sporty, but whose resonance remains pure like the sound of crystal.” This positions it as part of a new generation of fragrances aimed at active, independent women who valued freshness and clarity over opulence.
Raffinee by Houbigant (1982)
Launched in 1982, Raffinée by Houbigant arrived at a time when the fragrance market had become fragmented by lifestyle branding. Perfumes were no longer just perfumes—they were now marketed as “sporty,” “career-oriented,” “for housewives,” or “for nightlife.” In this landscape of narrowly defined identities, Raffinée was a deliberate and ambitious return to perfume’s original purpose: the invisible expression of luxury. It was conceived and created with one goal—to be what perfume was meant to be. "Luxury has a sensual appeal. The French understand that," stated Enrico Donati, then-owner and chairman of Houbigant. "I felt the time was right for a perfume collection of refined luxury, opulence and splendor. In today's world, luxury is a vanishing experience for many people, yet there is a universal yearning for it."
Houbigant, founded in Paris in 1775, had long served as perfumer to the aristocracy, including members of the court of Louis XVI. Its earliest ledgers recorded the names of nobility—proof of its historic standing in French society. With Raffinée, the company sought to reaffirm its heritage. After four years of meticulous development, the fragrance was introduced to the American market in September 1982, and it was made and packaged in France by Houbigant Paris, the fine fragrance division of the global enterprise. The scent was created in Grasse, the world’s perfume capital, where Jean-François Houbigant had made his very first fragrance over two centuries earlier.
The name Raffinée was carefully chosen to reflect the perfume’s purpose and character. “The word 'raffinée' is the highest compliment the French can pay a woman,” Donati explained. “It means someone who is innately elegant, distinctive, polished, with an instinct for the exquisite. In a roomful of women, many can look attractive, even beautiful, but the raffinée woman stands out. She has a certain quality that sets her apart. The word eludes exact translation into English. It means everything about a woman is just right.” Pronounced "rah-fee-NAY", the French word evokes not only a sense of refinement but also of rarity and sophistication—qualities Houbigant infused into every facet of the perfume.
Houbigant, founded in Paris in 1775, had long served as perfumer to the aristocracy, including members of the court of Louis XVI. Its earliest ledgers recorded the names of nobility—proof of its historic standing in French society. With Raffinée, the company sought to reaffirm its heritage. After four years of meticulous development, the fragrance was introduced to the American market in September 1982, and it was made and packaged in France by Houbigant Paris, the fine fragrance division of the global enterprise. The scent was created in Grasse, the world’s perfume capital, where Jean-François Houbigant had made his very first fragrance over two centuries earlier.
The name Raffinée was carefully chosen to reflect the perfume’s purpose and character. “The word 'raffinée' is the highest compliment the French can pay a woman,” Donati explained. “It means someone who is innately elegant, distinctive, polished, with an instinct for the exquisite. In a roomful of women, many can look attractive, even beautiful, but the raffinée woman stands out. She has a certain quality that sets her apart. The word eludes exact translation into English. It means everything about a woman is just right.” Pronounced "rah-fee-NAY", the French word evokes not only a sense of refinement but also of rarity and sophistication—qualities Houbigant infused into every facet of the perfume.
Parfum Inconnu by Houbigant c1910
Parfum Inconnu, introduced by the prestigious French perfume house Houbigant in 1910, bears a name that immediately invites mystery and curiosity. Translated from French, Parfum Inconnu means “Unknown Perfume.” Pronounced as "par-FAHM an-koe-NEW", the name suggests something elusive, romantic, perhaps even forbidden. It evokes images of veiled elegance, whispered secrets, and the allure of something yet to be discovered. This was not a fragrance that made loud declarations—it hinted, it alluded. It was designed for the woman who wished to be remembered not for her perfume, but for the trace of an impression it left behind.
Why would Houbigant choose such a name? By 1910, the perfume house had already established itself as one of the foremost names in French perfumery. Founded in 1775 and favored by European royalty, Houbigant was no stranger to bold innovation. Naming a fragrance Parfum Inconnu was both daring and poetic. It was a reflection of a cultural moment when the role of women was beginning to shift—subtly, but unmistakably. The Belle Époque, the era spanning from the late 19th century up to the First World War, was a time of artistic flourishing, technological progress, and new forms of feminine expression. Women were still confined by societal expectations, but they were beginning to claim more autonomy—in thought, in dress, and in self-presentation.
In 1910, fashion was in transition. The heavily corseted silhouettes of the 19th century were giving way to more fluid and natural lines. Designers like Paul Poiret were liberating women from constriction, offering looser, more comfortable garments inspired by Orientalism and classical antiquity. The “Gibson Girl” aesthetic was still influential, but was gradually being replaced by a more modern, cosmopolitan ideal of womanhood. In perfumery, this shift was equally evident. Heavier, muskier Victorian fragrances were still available, but fresh floral compositions were becoming increasingly fashionable—scents that evoked youth, nature, and emotional subtlety.
Etude by Houbigant c1931
Étude by Houbigant, launched in 1931, was a quintessential perfume of its era—elegant, introspective, and richly evocative. It carried all the hallmarks of classic 1930s perfumery: depth, mystery, and a luxurious, long-lasting composition. The name “Étude,” the French word for “study” or “practice piece,” suggests refinement, artistic concentration, and quiet sophistication. Pronounced ay-tood in layman’s terms, it conjures images of a woman pausing in graceful contemplation—poised, self-possessed, and expressive. Though it's unconfirmed, there is strong reason to believe that “Étude” may have been a shortened form of a previously trademarked name, Douce Quiétude ("gentle stillness" or "sweet tranquility"), a name Houbigant secured in 1920. If this is the case, “Étude” becomes not only a poetic allusion but a distilled interpretation of quietude—a perfumed study in serenity.
The early 1930s were marked by elegance shadowed by hardship. The Great Depression had cast a pall over global economies, yet fashion and fragrance remained havens of aspiration and identity. Women of this era favored streamlined silhouettes, longer hemlines, and a more subdued glamour compared to the glittering flamboyance of the 1920s. In perfumery, the trend leaned toward opulence: exotic blends, complex structures, and long-wearing formulations. Against this backdrop, Étude fit perfectly—its faintly spicy, Orient-inspired scent offered escapism, sensuality, and sophistication all in one.
Created by perfumer Marcel Billot, Étude was described as “a faintly spicy odor, emanating an atmosphere of the Orient and India,” and most notably, “a deliciously heavy odor especially adapted for use on furs.” The composition was intended to reveal its character slowly—only reaching its fullest expression moments after being applied. This idea of development after application—an olfactory crescendo—echoed the name Étude, a fragrance that unfolds like a musical piece, each note building on the next with grace and precision. It was also a clever marketing nod to the fashion of the time: elegant women in fur-trimmed coats, their perfume warming and blooming softly as they moved.
The early 1930s were marked by elegance shadowed by hardship. The Great Depression had cast a pall over global economies, yet fashion and fragrance remained havens of aspiration and identity. Women of this era favored streamlined silhouettes, longer hemlines, and a more subdued glamour compared to the glittering flamboyance of the 1920s. In perfumery, the trend leaned toward opulence: exotic blends, complex structures, and long-wearing formulations. Against this backdrop, Étude fit perfectly—its faintly spicy, Orient-inspired scent offered escapism, sensuality, and sophistication all in one.
Created by perfumer Marcel Billot, Étude was described as “a faintly spicy odor, emanating an atmosphere of the Orient and India,” and most notably, “a deliciously heavy odor especially adapted for use on furs.” The composition was intended to reveal its character slowly—only reaching its fullest expression moments after being applied. This idea of development after application—an olfactory crescendo—echoed the name Étude, a fragrance that unfolds like a musical piece, each note building on the next with grace and precision. It was also a clever marketing nod to the fashion of the time: elegant women in fur-trimmed coats, their perfume warming and blooming softly as they moved.
Essence Rare by Houbigant (1928)
in paragraphs, describe details - - - rewrite if needed to sound professional, but engaging -
Essence Rare by Houbigant was launched in 1928. Why would choose the name " "? What does the word " " mean, what language, how is it pronounced (in layman’s terms)? What images and emotions does the word " " evoke? Describe the time period in which this perfume was launched, what was happening, what period in this known as, what were fashions, trends, and its influence on perfumery? How would women of the time period have related to a perfume called " " ? How would the word " " be interpreted in scent? Story goes that Houbigant wanted a big time aldehyde perfume to compete with Chanel’s no. 5, so Roure-Bertrand chemist Paul Schving created Essence Rare. It is classified as a heavy aldehydic floral woody bouquet fragrance for women. "Houbigant's exclusive perfume, " Essence Rare,"the world's most perfect fragrance - the ultimate in parfum elegance - the supreme gift! A refreshing blend of scents with a spicy overtone imprisoned in a faceted crystal flacon. Enshrined in jewel-like splendour, $ 25 to $ 125 the flacon." In the context of other fragrances on the market, was this fragrance unique for the time period or did it fall in line with other trends?
Theatre Magazine, 1929:
"If your holiday list includes one or more devotees of Houbigant's long favored Idéal, or perhaps Quelques Fleurs, you won't go wrong in selecting either of the two new Houbigant scents: Essence Rare, a sophisticated evening odeur which Houbigant has dramatically sealed in a cut crystal flacon, resembling nothing so much as a brilliant gem in the exquisite setting of its luxurious box; or Bois Dormant, a daytime woodland fragrance perfume."
Fragrance Composition:
So what does it smell like? Essence Rare by Houbigant is classified as a heavy aldehydic floral woody bouquet fragrance for women.
- Top notes: aldehydes (C-10, C-11, C-12 MNA), Calabrian bergamot, Nerol, Citral, Provencal lavender, linalool, Roman chamomile, Alpine lily-of-the-valley, hydroxycitronellal
- Middle notes: Bourbon geranium, Tunisian orange blossom absolute, Grasse jasmine absolute, Bulgarian rose otto, Florentine iris, methyl ionone, Tuscan violet leaf, Zanzibar clove, Ceylon cardamom, cinnamic alcohol
- Base notes: Turkish tobacco, Seychelles patchouli, Haitian vetiver, Austrian oakmoss, Virginian cedar, oak wood absolute, Mysore sandalwood, ambergris, ambreine, Mexican vanilla, Siam benzoin, Canadian castoreum, Sumatran styrax, Tibetan musk, Venezuelan tonka bean, coumarin, Ethiopian civet
Scent Bottle:
Essence Rare by Houbigant unfolds as a grand symphony of complex florals, rich woods, rare animalics, and luminous aldehydes—each ingredient chosen with precision, evoking a world of elegance, sophistication, and sensual depth. Classified as a heavy aldehydic floral woody bouquet, this fragrance is not simply worn, but inhabited, a signature scent that lingers long after the wearer has passed.
It opens with a shimmering brilliance—the aldehydes (C-10, C-11, and C-12 MNA) sparkle like champagne bubbles across the senses. C-10 (decanal) lends a soapy, waxy freshness; C-11 (undecanal) adds a crisp green-citrus flash, while the long-chain C-12 MNA (methylnonylacetaldehyde) infuses the air with a silvery, ozonic halo. These synthetics don't replace nature; they elevate it. The aldehydes sharpen and illuminate the Calabrian bergamot, which here is crisp and slightly floral, and the Nerol—a sweet, floral citrus molecule distilled from bitter orange flowers—adds softness and lift. Citral, with its lemony verve, merges with Provencal lavender, aromatic and herbaceous, imparting a classic fougère-like polish. Linalool gently bridges the citrus with the floral notes to follow, while Roman chamomile hums with apple-like warmth, grounding the more volatile top notes. The Alpine lily-of-the-valley (recreated through hydroxycitronellal) introduces a bright, dewy green floralcy, softened and enhanced by this key synthetic, which is essential to achieving the watery-white bloom lilacs and lilies are known for.
As the aldehydes begin to fade, the heart emerges—a lush bouquet laced with spice, green florals, and opulent absolutes. Bourbon geranium provides a rosy-lemony sharpness, while Tunisian orange blossom absolute—rich, honeyed, and slightly indolic—gives a narcotic intensity that pairs beautifully with the creamy Grasse jasmine absolute. These jasmine fields from Grasse produce a nectarous scent with depth and warmth rarely matched elsewhere. Bulgarian rose otto, distilled from the famed Damask roses of the Kazanlak valley, is velvety and intoxicating—earthy, spicy, and almost jammy. Florentine iris butter adds a finely powdered note, with woody, buttery coolness, softened and rounded by methyl ionone, a synthetic violet-ionone compound that enhances the iris’s natural facets and links it to the heart’s Tuscan violet leaf, which smells green, crisp, and fresh. Zanzibar clove contributes a spicy, almost numbing carnation bite, while Ceylon cardamom is smooth and aromatic, not sharp—rich with warmth and mystery. A trace of cinnamic alcohol brings a soft cinnamon warmth, acting as a connector between flowers and woods.
The base is where Essence Rare earns its name. A tapestry of precious, resinous, and animalic notes, it feels both ancient and modern. Turkish tobacco imparts a dried hay-sweetness tinged with smoke. Seychelles patchouli is less earthy than its Indonesian counterpart—rich, warm, and rounded, supporting the chocolatey depth of Haitian vetiver and the velvety dryness of Austrian oakmoss. Together with Virginian cedar and oak wood absolute, they form a woody spine that is at once deep and shadowed, yet alive with texture. Mysore sandalwood, creamy, sacred, and almost incense-like, marries with the marine-skin warmth of ambergris and its synthetic echo, ambreine, for longevity and sensuality.
The sweetness of Mexican vanilla and Siam benzoin—both balsamic and smoky—wrap the composition in a golden halo. Canadian castoreum and Sumatran styrax add leather and incense undertones, while Tibetan musk lends a profoundly animalic heartbeat. Venezuelan tonka bean and coumarin offer a hay-almond softness, and finally, a subtle touch of Ethiopian civet—musky, fecal, intimate—reminds us that perfume, at its best, evokes not just flowers and forests but flesh, desire, and the passage of time.
Essence Rare is not a light perfume. It is an experience—a study in contrasts and harmony, where aldehydes meet musk, rose meets wood, and freshness bows to shadow. It captures the essence of classic French perfumery at its most ambitious: ornate, emotional, and unforgettable.
Bottles:
To reflect the luxury and sophistication of Essence Rare, Houbigant turned to the master craftsmen at Baccarat, commissioning a crystal flacon that would mirror the refined opulence of the perfume within. The result was a striking faceted bottle, a polyhedral design composed of twenty polished facets, each cut with geometric precision to catch and refract light like a finely cut gemstone. This flacon wasn't just a container—it was a jewel, crafted to convey status, style, and exquisite taste.
Two distinct versions of the Baccarat bottle were produced. One featured a gilded glass ball stopper, understated yet regal, echoing the golden light of the scent it sealed. The other version was more elaborate, fitted with an inner glass stopper and a protective gilded metal overcap, combining the elegance of crystal with the functionality of a secure, travel-safe design. Regardless of version, each base was etched with the perfume’s identity: “Essence Rare – Houbigant France – New York”, affirming the fragrance’s dual identity as both a Parisian creation and a transatlantic luxury.
The bottle came in four sizes, each with a carefully scaled presentation to suit a range of desires and budgets:
- Modèle Original ($25): The smallest, at 2 oz, 2.25 inches tall, was fitted with a simple gilded button stopper attached to a long glass dauber, designed for dabbing scent with precision. This version did not include the inner glass or metal cap.
- Moyen Modèle ($45): A 4 oz bottle, 3.5 inches tall, it featured the gilded ball stopper, but no dauber, striking a balance between display and function.
- Grand Modèle ($75): At 8 oz and 4 inches tall, this bottle was generous in both form and perfume—designed for the dressing table of a true connoisseur.
- Très Grande Modèle ($125): The most imposing, at 16 oz and 6 inches tall, it was a statement piece, befitting only the most luxurious boudoir.
Each of these exquisite bottles was housed in a cube-shaped presentation box, covered in polychrome paper, likely with subtly iridescent or metallic designs that mirrored the refraction of the crystal. The front of the box dropped open, revealing a meticulously crafted interior: royal blue velvet provided a plush resting place, while a gold foil-backed depression was molded to cradle five of the flacon’s twenty facets, securing it like a treasure in its setting.
Altogether, this packaging elevated Essence Rare beyond perfumery into the realm of collectible art, a deliberate gesture by Houbigant to signify that this was no ordinary fragrance. It was a rare essence—both in name and in nature.
Essence Rare by Houbigant was not merely a fragrance—it was presented and received as a work of art, a perfume that captured attention not only for its composition but also for its alluring presentation and aspirational marketing. Advertisements from the mid-1930s through the early 1940s frame the scent as a luxury item with universal appeal, something exquisitely rare, yet increasingly accessible.
A 1935 advertisement in Hearst’s described Essence Rare as “the essence of an essence,” evoking the image of something refined to its most precious core. It was likened to “a many-faceted jewel in a lovely setting,” a poetic reference to the Baccarat flacon’s crystal facets, which resembled a cut diamond. The language underscored both the opulence of the presentation and the sophistication of the perfume itself. The pricing began at $10, a considerable sum during the Depression era, reinforcing its position as a luxury item.
That same year, The Delineator spoke to a broader market. Acknowledging that not everyone could afford high-end perfumes, it noted that Houbigant offered a special edition of Essence Rare in a diamond-shaped flacon, appealing to women who admired luxury but had limited means. This reflects a shift in Houbigant’s strategy—introducing aspirational beauty through more affordable packaging without compromising the brand's refined image.
By 1939, The New Yorker highlighted the continued popularity and evolution of Essence Rare, noting that while new perfumes like Demi-Jour captured attention, established favorites like Essence Rare were being “done up in a new way.” This likely referred to updated packaging or bottle styles, perhaps a refreshed Baccarat bottle or more modern commercial flacons. Priced from $10, the perfume was positioned as a luxurious yet attainable accessory for the stylish woman of the late 1930s.
Finally, a 1941 mention in Drug Topics Redbook further clarifies the pricing structure: the Modèle Réduit, or reduced model, was available from $10 to $80, while the Modèle Original was priced at $27.50. This range reflects not only the different bottle sizes and presentations but also the sustained popularity of Essence Rare well into the 1940s. Its pricing and promotion continued to reinforce the perception of the fragrance as precious, elegant, and enduring—a classic designed to appeal to a woman’s sense of timeless beauty and refined taste.
Essence Rare by Houbigant was launched in 1928, a year steeped in the glamour and optimism of the late Art Deco period. This was a time when perfumery was undergoing significant transformation—no longer just a functional product, perfume had become a symbol of personal identity and luxury. Positioned as an elegant, complex floral-woody fragrance, Essence Rare embodied this shift. It was designed for the modern woman of the late 1920s and 1930s: confident, sophisticated, and in tune with the stylish aesthetics of the era.
The fragrance was presented in striking Baccarat crystal flacons, which only reinforced its luxury appeal. Houbigant spared no detail in its presentation—from the faceted, jewel-like bottle to the rich velvet-lined boxes. This perfume wasn’t just a scent—it was a statement of taste and refinement. Advertised as “the essence of an essence,” it was meant to suggest both rarity and purity, a distilled ideal of beauty captured in olfactory form.
Throughout the 1930s and early 1940s, Essence Rare remained a staple in Houbigant’s perfume portfolio, often promoted as a gift of distinction and charm. It appeared in various sizes and prices, allowing a broader demographic of women to experience what was once reserved for the elite. However, by the late 1940s, the perfume appears less frequently in advertising and retail catalogs, and was likely discontinued around 1949. This may have been due to postwar shifts in both fashion and fragrance preferences, as the market leaned toward fresher, more modern scents, and wartime material shortages may also have impacted production.
Still, Essence Rare remained fondly remembered by those who wore it. Its blend of aldehydes, flowers, and woods made it a sophisticated, layered perfume that lingered in memory long after it vanished from store shelves. Though discontinued, Essence Rare left behind a legacy of refinement and artistry that spoke to the golden age of perfumery and Houbigant’s enduring reputation as one of France’s most elegant fragrance houses.
1976 Reformulation & Relaunch:
In 1976, Houbigant brought back Essence Rare, but this was no simple revival of the original 1928 formulation. Instead, the fragrance was completely reimagined by the young and immensely talented Jean-Claude Ellena, who would later become one of the most respected perfumers of the 20th and 21st centuries. This new Essence Rare was created under the Houbigant name in partnership with Mem, a company that distributed Houbigant perfumes during this era. The decision to reformulate was not about nostalgia—it was about evolution, and positioning the brand within the contemporary olfactory landscape of the 1970s.
Rather than echoing the aldehydic floral structure of the original—a sophisticated cousin to Chanel No. 5—this new Essence Rare aligned itself with the modern chypre movement that defined the decade. It was Houbigant’s answer to assertive, structured fragrances like Yves Saint Laurent’s Rive Gauche (1971) and Paco Rabanne’s Calandre (1969), both of which embodied the new mood: cool, intellectual, and self-assured. These were fragrances for the confident, professional woman who embraced androgyny, minimalism, and modernity.
Ellena’s Essence Rare was designed to balance tradition with innovation—its floral heart remained, but it was streamlined and sharpened. The aldehydes and powdery sweetness of earlier decades gave way to crisper, greener, and woodier tones. The base carried a more metallic and mineral edge, placing it in line with other trailblazing chypres of the time. The result was less romanticism, more clarity—a scent of poised elegance, not softness.
Through this reinvention, Houbigant demonstrated its ability to adapt without abandoning its roots. The name Essence Rare remained, signaling refinement and luxury, but the scent itself became a reflection of the era: forward-thinking, coolly sensual, and unmistakably modern. For those who experienced both versions, the 1976 relaunch offered a fascinating contrast—a perfume that shared a name with its predecessor, but spoke fluently in the bold language of its time.
Fragrance Composition:
- Top notes: aldehydes, Calabrian bergamot oil, Sicilian orange, green note accord, Hungarian chamomile, Dutch hyacinth
- Middle notes: Madagascar ylang ylang, Egyptian jasmine, Grasse rose de mai, Bulgarian rose, Bourbon geranium, lily, Alpine lily of the valley, Florentine orris
- Base notes: Javanese patchouli, Levantine fig leaf, Mysore sandalwood, ambergris, East Indian vetiver, Ethiopian civet, Tonkin musk, Yugoslavian oakmoss, Venezuelan tonka bean
Scent Profile:
When I breathe in the opening of the 1976 version of Essence Rare by Houbigant, I am immediately enveloped in a cloud of glacial aldehydes—bright, effervescent, and vaporous. These aldehydes, synthetic molecules designed to imitate the crisp freshness of air on clean linen or the coolness of morning dew, lend a radiant sparkle. They are not just top notes—they are a mood. Layered beneath is a slice of Calabrian bergamot oil, with its unique bitterness softened by floral undertones, joined by Sicilian orange, ripe and tart, bursting with juicy clarity. The citrus lifts and slices through the aldehydes with golden energy, while a green note accord—like crushed stems and dew-dappled foliage—threads through the top, grounding it in nature.
As the aldehydic shimmer fades, the Hungarian chamomile becomes more noticeable, adding an herbal, almost hay-like warmth with an apple-like softness that contrasts beautifully with the sharp coolness above. Alongside it, Dutch hyacinth makes a piercing entrance—its green floral sharpness pushing forward with icy, peppered sweetness, like a cold spring bloom forcing through frost. It’s a complex, unusual green-floral accord that announces the transition to the heart of the fragrance.
In the mid-notes, the florals unfurl in a layered, luminous bouquet. The Madagascar ylang ylang is rich, buttery, and slightly fruity—sun-warmed and thick, tempering the aldehydes with sensuality. Egyptian jasmine, with its narcotic, almost animalic quality, adds a sultry, indolic pulse that deepens the experience, while Grasse rose de mai and Bulgarian rose combine to form a tapestry of powdery, honeyed, and lemon-tinged rose facets—Grasse bringing tenderness, Bulgarian bringing opulence. Bourbon geranium, with its rosy-minty brightness, sharpens the blend and enhances the natural rose notes. Lily and Alpine lily of the valley contribute a watery, dew-kissed green floralcy—cool and silvery in tone—while Florentine orris, made from the aged root of the iris flower, adds a powdery, buttery texture, evoking the scent of suede or pale violet-colored velvet.
The base settles slowly and sensually. Javanese patchouli is earthy and slightly camphoraceous, the cool dampness of a forest floor mingling with the dry warmth of Levantine fig leaf, which contributes a green, milky sharpness with a faint fruitiness. Mysore sandalwood, now almost mythical, is creamy, dense, and sacred-smelling—a touch of sacred incense wood with a milky softness unlike any other sandalwood from modern sources. East Indian vetiver is grassy and dry, adding smoky texture and an almost leathery depth. This rooty, smoky quality makes a perfect base for the animalics.
Here, Ethiopian civet—earthy, musky, and sweetly pungent—adds a feral warmth, while Tonkin musk (in its original animal-derived form) blends with it to create a velvet pelt-like effect: intimate, soft, and human. Venezuelan tonka bean, rich in coumarin, brings almondy warmth with hints of hay and vanilla. Ambergris, once excreted by sperm whales and aged in the ocean, lends its legendary radiance—a salty, warm-skin smell that acts as a fixative and scent amplifier. Finally, Yugoslavian oakmoss offers its signature forest-floor dampness—mossy, inky, and earthy—wrapping the fragrance in a chypre-like base of mystery and restraint.
Together, this modern interpretation of Essence Rare in 1976 becomes not just a perfume, but a journey: from the frosted elegance of aldehydes and citrus, through the radiant symphony of floral hearts, to the mossy, animalic sensuality of its deep base. It is dignified but daring—classic in structure, but modern in attitude—a perfume that truly lives up to its name.
Bottle:
The 1976 reimagining of Essence Rare by Houbigant was presented in a stunning new crystal flacon that dramatically departed from the faceted elegance of its 1928 predecessor. This version was a sculptural masterpiece—bold, tactile, and evocative of natural forces. Designed to resemble tree bark or a rippling waterfall, the flacon was carved in heavy crystal with irregular, undulating grooves that played with light and shadow. The result was a dynamic surface—alternately glistening and matte—that evoked the texture of flowing water or wind-worn stone. The optical effect was mesmerizing, with “dancing lights and twinkly reflections,” as Cue magazine described it in 1976, elevating the bottle to the status of objet d’art.
Manufactured by the esteemed glassmaker Pochet et du Courval, a historic French firm known for supplying high-quality bottles to the greatest perfume houses, the bottle bore their distinctive HP hallmark molded into the base, alongside the inscription “Houbigant Made in France.” The craftsmanship was unmistakable: the thickness of the glass gave the bottle a luxurious heft in the hand, while the organic asymmetry of its form gave it a modern, earthy sensibility.
Topping the bottle was a chunky crystal stopper, cut with bold lines and a clean, geometric silhouette. It contrasted beautifully with the organic irregularity of the bottle itself—like a jewel crowning a piece of carved stone. This juxtaposition of textures underscored the fragrance’s concept: a balance between tradition and innovation, nature and refinement, softness and structure.
Together, the bottle and its contents told a story of evolution. While the perfume was a contemporary response to the sleek chypres and aldehydic florals of the 1970s, the bottle grounded it in the timeless luxury that Houbigant had long been known for. Essence Rare in its waterfall flacon offered a complete sensory experience—fragrance, form, and the anticipation of beauty held in crystal.
When original labels have gone missing, determining the size of your vintage Essence Rare bottles can be challenging. Fortunately, bottle height offers a helpful clue for identifying your bottle’s volume and original function. Here is a detailed guide based on standard measurements and bottle forms used for the Essence Rare product line:
The Micro Mini Perfume stands at just 1.25 inches tall. This tiny treasure was typically included in gift sets or promotional samplers and is instantly recognizable by its petite stature.
The 0.25 oz (7.5 ml) Perfume Splash—also known as parfum or extrait—measures 1.75 inches tall. This small, squat flacon was designed for portability and often featured a dabber-style stopper.
The 0.50 oz (14 ml) Perfume Splash stands slightly taller at 2.25 inches. It is similarly constructed but offers a more generous amount for extended wear.
The 1 oz (28 ml) Perfume Splash stands 2.75 inches tall and is often considered the classic "standard" size among parfum splash bottles, recognizable by its compact but refined proportions.
In spray format, the 0.25 oz Perfume Spray—used for parfum strength fragrance—measures 3.75 inches tall. These are usually slender and topped with a tall atomizer cap.
For the Eau de Toilette variation, a 21 ml bottle stands at 4.5 inches tall, often with a more elongated silhouette and a different style atomizer from the parfum sprays.
The Body Fragrance Sprays came in a variety of sizes. The 0.75 oz, 1.7 oz, 2.5 oz, and 3.5 oz formats all shared a similar cylindrical form but increased in height and girth proportionally with volume.
There were also versions labeled Body Fragrance Spray with a lotion-like consistency, rather than a fine mist. These came in 1.7 oz and 3.5 oz bottles and often featured a softer matte finish or cream-colored packaging, distinguishing them from the standard atomized versions.
Using these measurements, collectors and vintage fragrance enthusiasts can confidently identify their unlabeled Essence Rare bottles and appreciate them not only for their fragrance, but for their craftsmanship and history as well.
Product Line:
The 1976 relaunch of Essence Rare by Houbigant introduced a complete and luxurious product line designed to immerse the wearer in its distinctive woody floral aldehyde scent from head to toe. Available in multiple forms, the collection included a traditional parfum (extrait)—the most concentrated and enduring form of the fragrance—along with a fragrance spray and a body fragrance spray in a lotion-like texture, ideal for layering scent on the skin with a softer, more moisturizing touch. The line also extended into body care with an opulently scented dusting powder, a perfumed soap, and a richly indulgent bath oil, each created to extend the fragrance experience into daily rituals of self-care.
The cohesive design theme across the Essence Rare line drew from nature, with packaging that mimicked the organic textures of tree bark—a nod to the perfume’s earthy, woody character. This visual motif was especially striking in the powder jar, which had a glamorous sculpted form that shimmered with light, and the Body Fragrance bottle, which echoed the flowing contours and natural ridges of bark, like a polished piece of forest art. The overall effect was one of modern refinement grounded in nature, befitting the elegance of the perfume itself.
When Essence Rare was introduced in 1976, it marked a significant milestone for Houbigant, Inc., New York—its first major fragrance launch since the enduring success of Chantilly in the 1940s. This new scent was positioned as a refined, modern offering that captured the sophisticated taste of the era while staying true to the elegance for which Houbigant was known. The marketing reflected this ambition, with Vogue in 1977 proclaiming, “We searched until we found the Essence Rare.” The advertisement described the fragrance as one that “starts softly, develops beautifully and never seems to end,” emphasizing its graceful evolution on the skin and its lingering presence. Houbigant crafted Essence Rare in several luxurious forms—perfume, cologne spray, and powder—ensuring the wearer could experience its beauty across multiple layers and moments. This multi-format release aligned with 1970s trends in personal fragrance rituals, offering a harmonious blend of modern sophistication and timeless French perfumery.
Fate of the Fragrance:
2018 Reformulation & Relaunch:
In 2018, renowned perfumer Jean-Claude Ellena undertook the task of recreating the formula for a new fragrance named Essence Rare for Houbigant. This iteration marked a significant departure from the original versions of Essence Rare, which had been released decades earlier. Ellena’s reinterpretation was crafted with a fresh vision, aiming to modernize and redefine the scent while honoring Houbigant’s rich heritage in perfumery.
This new Essence Rare was introduced as part of the Houbigant Collection Privée, a line that showcased exclusive, high-end fragrances reflecting the brand’s commitment to elegance and sophistication. Ellena’s approach emphasized subtlety and refinement, often hallmarks of his minimalist style, setting this fragrance apart from its predecessors. The 2018 Essence Rare was thus positioned not simply as a revival, but as a distinct creation within a prestigious collection, highlighting both innovation and tradition in the evolving story of Houbigant perfumes.
Fragrance Composition:
So what does it smell like? Essence Rare by Houbigant is classified as a floral fragrance for women.- Top notes: mandarin orange, aldehydes
- Middle notes: jasmine, lily of the valley, iris, rose
- Base notes: sandalwood, amber, oakmoss, vanilla
Scent Profile:
Essence Rare by Houbigant opens with a luminous burst of mandarin orange, its zest sparkling with a bright, juicy clarity that immediately awakens the senses. This mandarin, likely sourced from the sun-drenched groves of Italy or Corsica, carries a freshness that is both sweet and slightly tart, distinguished by its fine balance of vibrant citrus oils that are less bitter than varieties from other regions. Alongside this citrus glow, the presence of aldehydes adds an ethereal, almost sparkling facet—these synthetic aroma molecules lend a clean, shimmering veil that lifts the natural fruitiness into a radiant, airy brightness. The aldehydes also contribute a subtle soapy elegance, creating a crisp freshness that opens the perfume with a modern, effervescent energy.
As the fragrance unfolds, the heart reveals a rich, floral bouquet centered on jasmine, lily of the valley, iris, and rose. The jasmine here is likely of the delicate sambac variety, prized for its intensely sweet, creamy facets that are both exotic and intoxicating. The jasmine’s opulent floral warmth is tempered by the fresh, dewy green notes of lily of the valley, whose subtle sweetness evokes early morning petals laden with dew. Iris adds a powdery softness and a unique, earthy nuance—often harvested from Tuscany or France, iris root or orris butter is treasured for its velvety, slightly woody aroma, which lends an elegant, vintage sophistication to the bouquet. The rose, possibly a damask or centifolia, imbues the heart with a rich, opulent floral depth, its petals unfolding with a lush, velvety softness and a hint of honeyed warmth that balances the airy freshness of the other florals. Together, these notes weave a complex floral tapestry—natural and nuanced—where each flower’s individual character enhances the others, creating a harmonious, luxurious middle that is both timeless and refined.
The base of Essence Rare grounds the fragrance with warm, creamy sandalwood, likely sourced from Mysore, India, renowned for its rich, smooth, and milky qualities that are more refined and long-lasting than sandalwood from other regions. This lends the scent a gentle, velvety depth that envelops the wearer in softness. Amber adds a golden warmth, its resinous richness shimmering with subtle balsamic and powdery nuances that evoke both comfort and sensuality. Oakmoss contributes an earthy, forest-like complexity; harvested carefully to preserve its rich green, slightly leathery scent, it anchors the fragrance with natural depth and a hint of wildness, contrasting beautifully with the creamy woods and florals. Lastly, vanilla provides a sweet, creamy finish that smooths and rounds out the base notes, its warm gourmand richness enhancing the amber and sandalwood while softening the overall dry-down. In this blend, the vanilla’s natural warmth is often heightened by synthetic vanillin, which adds clarity and brilliance to the sweetness without overwhelming the delicate balance of the composition. Together, these base notes create a lingering, sophisticated trail—intimate yet radiant, grounding the ethereal florals with a tender, embracing warmth that endures.
Bottle:
The new Essence Rare is packaged in a bottle reminiscent as the one used for the remake of Quelques Fleurs.
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